


After the murder, before the accident

by qwertysweetea



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Tetralogy - Thomas Harris
Genre: Autistic Will Graham, Cohabitation, F/F, Flashbacks, Gen, Happy Ending, Male-Female Friendship, Nightmares, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pregnancy, Queerplatonic Relationships, Running Away, Trauma, Will Graham/ Margot Verger friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 01:50:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14760314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qwertysweetea/pseuds/qwertysweetea
Summary: Life with Margot was like living in the centre of a friendship Will never thought he’d have; one where he never had to explain his habits and never had to worry about uncomfortable, spontaneous touches. She respected his space in a way that not even those who knew him best did, dancing around each other naturally.Queer Platonic bliss, Margot had called it. Will had smiled and pretended he knew what that meant.[Margot avoids the consequences of the crash, but only just. Soft, platonic Will/Margot putting their middle fingers up to Mason and Hannibal by moving to Florida and working on being happy.]





	After the murder, before the accident

**Author's Note:**

> This show was missing: Margot getting to be happy, Will getting to be a father, Margot/Will friendship, Judy, the insinuation that Will was actually in love with Molly and would have ended up with her regardless of circumstance (if you squint enough).

Margot avoided the consequences of the crash, only just. Her head bounced off the steering wheel and her vision was fading in and out but it wasn't going to stop her pushing it into reverse and pressing the acceleration to the floor. Adrenaline was a wonderful asset for the short time she had it. Until she woke up in the early hours, a soft bed under her and a dog curled up by her feet, everything else was eerily absent.

Dogs weren't allowed on the bed usually, she came to realise. Somewhere behind all the numbness, anger and hurt, she felt the ticklings of gratitude.

#

Life with Margot was like living in the centre of a friendship Will never thought he’d have; one where he never had to explain his habits and never had to worry about uncomfortable, spontaneous touches. She respected his space in a way that not even those who knew him best did.

She got on with her life and let him get on with his, dancing around each other naturally; even with her hormonal spikes, she managed to avoid hitting any sore spots for him. Their squabbles were just that, far too petty and soft to be considered arguments.

Will found himself blooming in the small apartment they had set up for themselves in Florida. Open plan, modern and nothing like he thought he would like. As it turned out, Margot living comfortably took away the initial discomfort of town life. His work, his hobbies, the dogs, Margot: they all slotted together as though this life was where he had always belonged.

Queer Platonic bliss, Margot had called it. Will had smiled and pretended he knew what that meant. He never thought that anyone he shared his life with would consider his company blissful; his paternal feelings flared.

#

Will woke up to the sun teaming through his open window like he had so often in Wolftrap. The air was still and the streets below were quiet, for now. That would change in a couple of hours when he was already on his way to work. Sometimes he would take his breakfast back to his room and eat it leaning on the ledge, pretending he was back at home out on his front porch.

Sometimes, he allows himself to think about moving them into their own home, somewhere where the front porch overlooks a lake or maybe a beach. He knows he could get lost in those thoughts for hours if he let himself disappear into his mind, so he shakes them loose and shoves his breakfast down.

Margot would wake up to the hot, stagnant air in her room, blinds down and curtains drawn. Where the light reminded Will that he was alive, waking up to the sun on her closed eyelids sent shots of blinding colour through her mind; her head would pound, and she'd wake up screaming, with a hand on her stomach.

#

They left each other to their own nightmares, for the most part. Sometimes Will's breathing became too hard for Margot to ignore and she would sit beside him, legs curls up and arms holding them against her chest. Something about non-physical intimacy seemed to calm Will down. He would wake up drenched in sweat, with her asleep beside him, propped against the headboard to stop herself rolling into him.

On trembling legs he'd walk over to his window and pull the curtains closed, peeling his shirt off on the way.

Margot would wake up in the dark and in his arms.

#

Will hadn’t question it when Margot showed up at his door again, slightly shaken with a sizable gash on her forehead, car ruined. She hadn’t felt like speaking and there was enough understanding between them for Will to respect it; he let her isolate herself in her thoughts for as long as she needed. She curled up in Will’s bed without saying a word, clutching at her stomach, and he let her. He'd find somewhere to sleep, eventually.

(That somewhere turned out to be propped against the foot of his bed with his shotgun in his lap, ready to grab.)

He thought about that night a lot. He thought about how things would have worked out if he'd gone over to the farm and put a bullet through her brother's skull while she slept. The more he thought about it, the more he resented the circumstances depriving him of the chance.

Will had got the impression over those first few days that Margot didn’t like being a damsel in distress. They talked little and when they did her conversation was stuttered with definitives. The house, the food, the arsehole, the child. Her victimhood, and her life had much of it, was starting to feel like the only place she belonged.

It was during those conversations that he realised Margot wasn't going to make it through the pregnancy while Mason could reach her. It was during those conversations that he realised she had to be the one to kill him.

“Don’t…” Will stopped. He could see her shrinking away with the insinuation that it was an order. “I would like for you to stay with me, if you would want to.” He tried to make it sound like a question far too late for it to be successful.

She opened her mouth to argue.

“I care about you, Margot, as an acquaintance and as someone else who has been wronged. I care about you as the mother of my child.”

“I won’t impose any more on you that I already have.” It sounded certain.

“Of all the impositions I’ve faced, yours don’t even touch it.” Will snorted out with a dry laugh “It would be a privilege.”

#

They talked about where they would go a lot in the short time they had.

“Sail down. Disappear until they are born.” Will could hear how whimsical it sounded, and Margot could hear the stain behind it. Running away wasn’t in either of their natures and neither enjoyed the ever-present sensation of being backed into a corner. “We keep them safe and healthy, collect the maternity paperwork.”

“Mason has his unfortunate accident.” She added, voice devoid of emotion.

“I’ll make sure of it, Margot.” Her hand slipped into his. The touch was gentle and so sincere it knocked the feeling back into her.

#

“You’re going on holiday?” Jack sounded his trademark mixture of explosive irritation and disbelief. “Just like that. 6 months.”

“I’m going on holiday for 8 months." He replied, matter-of-fact. It was a conversation he knew would have to come, and the one he dreaded the most. "Traveling, sailing around the Americas.”

“That’s over half a year, Will, I can’t spare you for that long.”

Those at Behavioural Science were the only ones he had to tell he was going once his leave had been granted; the only obstacle. Now it was happening he felt no conflict, no regret for his circumstances or regret for the man in front of him.

“Funny Jack, I didn’t think I needed your permission.”

“We need you here.” The veins in Jack's head looked ready to rupture with how tight he was clenching his jaw. Still, he managed to control the volume of his voice. “Did Doctor Lecter agree to this?”

Will felt hatred bubble from in his chest, flooding into his throat. Unlike Jack, he didn't plan on hiding his anger. “Doctor _Lecter_ has nothing to do with this." He spat back "I'm prioritising myself for once. See you in the fall.” And with that, he closed his bag, turned his back to the agent, and left.

#

Jack visited him once more before he left. They agreed to meet at the docks. He brought Hannibal and Alana with him.

He wasn't mad at Jack; he shook his hand firmly and accepted his good wishes with a smile. It was nicer to part on friendly terms. Hannibal wished him well for appearance's sake and hoped that Will didn't see how much he wanted to stay silent.

Will thought about that a lot too. He thought about how much hatred and inadequacy must have been tearing Hannibal up with his failure. He played with people's lives like little girls in traditional families played with dolls in their doll's houses. If he hadn't failed then Mason would have killed his child, and he would have killed Mason; Margot would have nothing but her trauma, and he would have nothing but Hannibal. Now he had Margot and his child, Margot had the opportunity for everything, and Hannibal had nothing.

That thought made him smile.

"What are you smiling about?" Margot would question, a mouthful of ice-cream and that telling smile dancing on her lips. She had developed a habit of jibbing since she'd see the lady behind the counter at a local clothes shop flirting with him. "You finally get her number?"

He pulled himself out of those thoughts and turned his attention back to the cone in his hand, finding the melted ice-cream was dripping down his arm. "No. No!" He insisted, trying to mop up the mess with a dishtowel. His ears prickled when she flashed into his mind. He had to acknowledge, the jibes weren't entirely misplaced.

"Well you'd better soon, or I'll do it for you."

#

Margot awoke to sounds of movement down the corridor. The watch on her bedside table alerted her to the fact that Will would have left for work two hours previously. With hand clasped tightly onto the gun on her bedside table and heart in her throat, she moved through the apartment.

They had always known there was a chance Mason would pull out all the stops to find her. The first day in their new home, Will had brought Margot her own gun and taken her to the range to teach her how to use it. Every time the bullet clipped the target she imagined her brother screaming. They practiced every day until she was accurate enough. When every bullet of the clip she emptied hit somewhere on the silhouette somewhere, she had lent her head back onto Will's chest, breath heavy in her lungs, and smiled bright enough to rival Will's own.

Now her hands were trembling and she was unsure if she could do it. When she thought of the life in her and how it was nearly taken, she almost believed she could again.

She pushed through the walkway to the kitchen.

“Will!” Her hands loosened on the gun “You managed to get the day off?”

“Yeah, sorry. I would have let you know but he only told me this morning.” When he turned to look at her, flushed and scared, he almost dropped his plate for the instantly overpowering need to get to her. When he noticed the gun, all of that was taken over with pride.

"No. I'm glad you get to come to the scan."

Bliss; the word rung in his head again. Even when things went wrong everything fit together so perfectly. He held out the plate he thankfully hadn't dropped. “Omelette. No onions."

#

"Will, this is Judy. Judy, this is Will."

True love has no concept of timing, as it turned out, a lesson that Will had understood long before he found himself shaking Judy's hand at their local coffee shop. Margot had fallen head-over-heels in love and however happy for her Will was, he found worry gnawing at his insides with every lovesick glance they shared.

But Judy didn't run. She was told everything over the months they had left in Florida and still she didn't run. She would sit by Margot's side with that same lovesick smile, and she would meet Will in the kitchen in the early hours while Margot still slept, and ask him how she could help her. Slowly the gnawing was replaced with a kindling hope that this might turn out how it should.


End file.
